Bereft
by Sparkly-elf
Summary: There was always something missing, something important to Yuna she couldn't quite put her finger on. Perhaps her lonelyness had done this, made her wish for something she could never have in this world, in Spira.
1. Birthday WakeUp Call

**Author's Notes:** Yes, it's that time again where I start a new story! WOOO It has been quite the long time since I've written something well thought out and decent (to a certain point of course), so begin to enjoy a tirade of long thought scenes and odd uses of saracasm!

Let me give you the brief summary (or mission statement, which ever way you want to see it really).

SephirothBeatrix and I recently began writing a crossover called THE LIIIIIIIINE in the XII section of final fantasy, and thought up a very endearing and inevetably perfect pairing. We went awwww for several hours about it, drew lots of pictures and crap, but I couldn't help but feel compelled to write something a little more serious, with depth, and storyline to this sordid love affair.

So yes, this is a crossover of X-2 and XII with a crossover pairing, but trust me, it has a plot to it, and I'm trying to cement over my plot-bunny holes and lure the dammed creatures out with the promise of juicy carrots, so bear with me.

No crossover within the first chapter, mainly just buckets of foreshadowing, and introductions and so on and so fourth.

**Warnings:** Nothing within the first chapter, but eventual Lemon and I do love my descriptive fight scenes.

**Birthday Wake Up-Call**

Twenty was a… difficult age.

Especially when the still-young-and-virtuous Rikku brought it up on every available occasion that _she_ was only eighteen and didn't have wrinkles and frown lines. Yuna had grown accustom to the throbbing pain in her wrist every time she decided to nut the Al Bhed in the lower back after a particularly mean (and sadly humorous) comment on the High Summoner's age.

Not that she _had_ wrinkles or frown lines, but…

Birthdays seemed to be less celebrated as a person grows older, and it was no exception for the High Summoner, who was instantly called to Bevelle at ten in the morning from her holiday beach home in Besaid. She once thought that her fame would mean her birthday would call for fabulous parties at Kilika and lavish extravagant gifts being thrown upon her while surrounded by her friends and pulse-pounding music.

But not so far. Macalania-nut coffee, an overcast sky and an interrupted lie-in. Happy 20th.

Not that she was particularly unhappy with having to go the temple of Saint Bevelle. In truth, she rather enjoyed helping out when needed, be it Youth League or New Yevon. Both parties had finally come to terms with the fact that she was on neither side, or on both sides, it didn't really matter which. Like a friendly mercenary, or a repair service.

Or a maid… sigh. It was still her _birthday_.

Perhaps she was just too nice like that, she mused while sipping her coffee and trudging down the Highbridge. Passing monks nodded and bowed to her, to which she replied in kind, nearly tripping over herself mid-bow when her weary, uncoordinated feet caught around themselves. Blushing furiously as a monk turned away in effort to stop laughing, she pushed open the doors to the temple, the sombre silence blanketed the interior when the doors slid shut behind her with a bang she was all-too used to.

"Ah, Yuna… you didn't need to show up so quickly, really…" Despite Baralai having quite possibly the softest and most calming voice in all of Spira, Yuna's left eye still managed to twitch at the statement. And he noticed, obviously so ridiculously in tune with his surroundings like a wild-eyed Coeurl, and just as unruffled.

"Not that I find your arrival unwelcome," he added hastily. "I'm rather glad you're here."

She smiled, almost without meaning to. After the whole incident with Vegnagun last year, Baralai had become even more of a recluse that usual. Guilt, Yuna thought, but Gippal and Nooj had far different ideas.

They both agreed on _fear_, and after explaining as such to Yuna, she couldn't help but let her heart break a little for the Praetor. It took a lot of convincing, but after many unfortunate run-ins and forced meetings, Yuna was able to coax the Praetor back out into the open. Spira forgave him, his friends never once held it against him, and because of Yuna and her (albeit insistent) emotional help, he came inextricably out from the cocoon of terror he had incased himself within.

The months she had spent helping the man return to the normal world had drawn them close to each other, until she was pretty much one of the few people he could actually have a normal, human conversation with, smile openly with (and she had to admit, his smile was cuter than a baby Urn) and trust. Yuna enjoyed the fact that he had so much confidence in her.

Despite popular belief, Baralai was rather fragile, prone to feeling emotion far stronger than most others, and if anyone knew that feeling, it was Yuna. The man was difficult, stubborn and problematical to draw out, but she felt like it was worth the work, really. When you finally get underneath that shell, you could rarely find one as loyal and sweet as Baralai, as caring, and gentle, and highly intelligent.

"This better be good, Baralai," she gestured with her paper cup, "I came all the way from Besaid for you, you know."

Sarcasm, of course, with her shy little smile. They both knew Yuna would never hesitate to lend a helping hand, especially to Baralai, who was stepped on frequently by the rest of Spira. It wasn't pity per se, it was more like protection. If she wanted to sugar-coat it.

He bowed. "Of course. I wouldn't call _you_ if it wasn't."

Perhaps she should have reminded him how much she hated the tone of her Commsphere when it was ringing, but it mattered not when they walked down the echoing hall of the temple to the Antechamber, offering her coffee cup to the man, who declined.

Once out of earshot from the Temple monks, she spoke again. "So, how have you been?"

"Fine," he gestured with his hand for emphasis, "a little tired lately. Gippal insists on me helping with the newest Machina at Djose."

"And why don't you?" Yuna took another sip, getting cream on her chin which she wiped off with a finger.

"I do." He replied. "That's what has me so tired. A lot of Al Bhed are setting up homes there, have you seen it lately?"

"No, but I've heard the stories. It sounds pretty lively at night."

"Yeah, might give Kilika a run for it's gil."

The white of his hair almost seemed to glow in the dim hallway, making those long eyelashes shocking against his caramel irises. Angelic, almost, and it certainly suited him. After Vegnagun, Baralai grew weary of the temples and their mountainous shelves of secrets. Spira rejoiced when the New Yevon party claimed to open the temple doors to historians, writers, investigators and the public in an effort to uncover and reveal every secret hidden from the masses over the centuries. This innovative status brought New Yevon into a genre of Monasteries and Scriptoriums which appointed the pages of history to be re-written, in fully fledged truth without bias or exaggeration.

Neither Nooj nor Baralai could have been happier with the arrangement, but some secrets uncovered in the temples had gotten the monks into trouble.

On countless occasions in the past year, Yuna, Rikku and Paine have been summoned to Bevelle to fight off hordes of fiends attempting to tear the monks limb from limb after, say, trying to open a suspiciously symbolically marked door, or opening a tightly bound, magically locked casket. The Via Purifico had never been more overcome with powerful fiends, possibly from the murderers, rapists, traitors and psychopaths who fell victim to it in the past. But _really_, some monks were just idiots who couldn't see the most obvious signs of foreshadowing, and attempting to explore and "purify" the Via Purifico of fiends without any protection was at best senseless.

Her breath came before her eyes in a shimmering mist as they descended, Yuna shivered involuntarily as they stepped onto the revolving platform, pulling them along the brightly lit pathway to various choices of corridors. Baralai tapped his foot to the left, and in an instant the lift turned and moved to his command.

"I thought this stopped working after the fiends started coming out of the chamber last year." She remarked, the floor glittering back at her in a haze of neon and chrome.

"It didn't, but I managed to bully Gippal into fixing it."

A smile then, from her as she continued drinking. "Why?"

"I was too lazy to _walk_ to all the rooms in here." He looked down, playing with his fingers, a gesture he only reserved for those closest to him, "Perhaps it was only recently I noticed how huge the Bevelle underground is."

"You?" She poked him in the ribs, to which he recoiled with a sharp "ow". "Lazy? I would have never dreamed."

"I enjoy my creature comforts. Surely you can understand that, with your home in Besaid."

"That's different." She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "That's _real_ comfort. You're just lazy, which is something I would expect from Gippal."

"Perhaps I should stop spending so much time around him, lest I catch his deadly personality."

Another smile and a chuckle, and the bitterness of being woken so early was utterly forgotten. The reason however, was not, and an unease settled inside her chest like a bad cold. The revolving platform shuddered and she stumbled, catching a hold of Baralai's jacket to steady herself. His hand caught onto her forearm and hauled her back into place.

"So, why did you wake me up again?"

He paused as they stepped off the platform to the marble staircase supported frighteningly by metal poles that stretched down seemingly into nowhere. They lead into two hallways, one upper which lead to the Chamber of the Fayth, the other across, to the room which once held a Gift of Anima and old, old scriptures. She was lead down the former, and her unease only grew.

"You remember the symbols that have been popping up around Chamber of the Fayth, right?" He asked, and continued when she nodded, "At first, the monks and I thought it was just the repercussions of the Fayth being manipulated again, but…"

Her wrapped braid shook with her strides, producing a sharp sound when it slapped against the marble wall, they both flinched.

"But…?"

Stopping, a dark hand went to cup his chin in a typically thoughtful way that was so like him, and his brow furrowed. "The symbols, they started to bubble last night. The monks have been examining them ever since. We don't really know what is causing it…"

Yuna snorted. "And I might?"

The door to the Chamber of Fayth slid upwards, and in the past, the old Yuna might have flinched, or felt her heart sink into her stomach at the thought of returning to such a sacred place. But not now, she has been here too many times, seen it too frequently to… to care much anymore. To bring back memories. It was common place.

While years ago there was once a beautifully coloured statue set into the floor, now the gaping wound of Vegnagun took it's place, a morbid reminder of the Machina, still bleeding Pyreflies as if to remind them that not all wounds could be healed with time. However, as Baralai had warned her earlier, symbols now decorated the walls, eerily glowing that strange, bluish-white. Upon first glance, they looked merely the same as every other symbol of Yevon did, curling designs, beautiful in their own way, remains of a language shaped over time by slang and the introduction of new cultures. Now however, they seemed to _burn_.

Plastic tends to bubble and melt when you heat it. Minus the acrid smell, and the effect was just the same here. But it wasn't the stone that seemed to burn, it was just the symbols.

The monks inside all stood and bowed formally upon their arrival, Baralai waved them off to allow them to continue their work.

"What is it?" Yuna asked, a hand travelling to her mouth, but not touching it.

"We're not too sure yet. I don't know if it has something to do with the Fayth or not. These chambers are still connected to the Farplane after all, so it could be any number of things."

Bubbling, _aching_ almost, the glow like a stuttering halogen light, and the bluish-white seemed to seep out and roll down the old stone in a single line, angel blood, liquid made of magic. One monk allowed the solution to dribble into a bowl, and he covered it with a cloth and handed it to another, who hurried outside with it. All done in silence.

Yuna hung her head for a moment, and said in a far off voice; "The Fayth are gone, Baralai…"

He turned his head to look at her, collar covering his chin and mouth, so the words were ghostly when they came from him. "Yes, but perhaps consider that something is trying to take their place."

* * *

"I'm not asking you to figure it out, simply that if we need - if _I_ need your help, I can count on you."

"Of course, Baralai. And besides, this isn't something normal… right?" Like an illness on the temples almost. Yuna shuddered at the thought, though she wouldn't be surprised if it turned out the concrete really was flesh and the interior was the organs, the people it's blood, the Fayth it's heart.

How very poetic of her. Yuna made a face.

"Thanks for that," He sighed as they continued to walk through the streets of Bevelle, her mouth watering at the thought of another Macalania-nut coffee, disappointed when they passed the shop.

"Just… keep me updated, alright?" She said, eyeing the prices of a nearby stall with half-interest, "Something… isn't right about it."

"You don't need to tell me that," He replied quietly, "I'm sure we're both just as worried about this. We don't need another fiend incident."

"I thought that stuff coming out of the symbols looked rather… explosive." She stated offhandedly.

Being so dark, when Baralai pales it's all too easy to notice. He stopped suddenly, and Yuna quickly grabbed a hold of his arm.

"N-not that I'm saying it is," she gushed reassuringly, which only made matters worse, "just… that's - be careful okay?"

His caramel coloured eyes looked down the cobbled ground, avoiding her hasty stare. Perhaps they were too alike, both stubborn and selfless, worrying incredibly over the minor details, terrible perfectionists. But Baralai's strength was in magic, intelligence and speed on the battlefield, not emotional response, not like Yuna in that context.

She could already see the panic, the fear welling up behind his impressive composure, which had weakened greatly since Vegnagun, the composure she had been so desperately trying to help him regain. She shook him, as if to snap him from his daze.

He shook his head, hands gently unclasping her fingers from his embroidered shoulders. "I'll try to figure something out as quickly as I can."

"What about the rest of the temples? Are they getting this too?"

"I don't know," he pinched the bridge of his nose for a second and squinted his eyes closed, "it only started happening this morning, when I called you."

Yuna sighed. This was going to be quite the _long _day. "Why don't you talk to Nooj? Ask him to send out some of the Youth League to the temples to check and get back to you."

Baralai however, looked a little hesitant. "Are you sure that's wise? After all, those symbols _are_ the symbols of Yevon."

"All the more reason to," She said, nodding. "You never know, your monks might need protection if the time comes, and I think Nooj should know about this. And ask Gippal to look at the liquid coming out of the walls."

A second, to contemplate even, and he smiled. "Perhaps… perhaps I should."

"See? You don't have to do this alone…"

Calm descended after several minutes, and he relaxed somewhat as they made their way back to the port for the Celsius. Soon, the violent red streak loomed into view, ruffling the blue material stationed around Yuna's legs, whipping about her braid she spent so long growing her hair for.

An embrace, and a whispered hope for health in her ear before she left. Yuna inwardly prayed this day was going to turn out better, and as she watched Baralai get smaller and smaller on the port as they flew away, the smallest sense of foreboding overtook for a second, causing her brow to furrow.

That feeling was squashed however, when Rikku snapped a party hat onto her head and destroyed the bridge with bright pink glitter.

* * *

"Yuna is not getting old!" Brother shrieked, waving around with a Shinra holding onto his wildly flailing arm for dear life. "She looks just as beaut-"

The man was cut off however, when the jumpsuit-adorning child managed to wrap his clothed hands around the overlarge mouth. Paine shook her head and sighed, Rikku was far too busy decorating the bridge with bright pink tinsel and glitter, and Buddy was… just being Buddy, stationed at the cockpit, ignorant to the spectacle.

It was times like this that really made Yuna grin. Straightening her party hat, she took one end of the almost offensively puce tinsel with her cousin, and proceeded to tie Paine to the railings, struggling violently against her glittering restraints. Attempts to swat them away were futile, she then began to swear vicious obscenities, made various colourful death threats (two in Al Bhed) and then finally gave up, slumping against the metal and scowling.

"Come on Paine, it's my birthday," Yuna chuckled, strapping a bow across the grey mop of hair. "You have to do what I say!"

"Yeah!" Rikku punched the air. "Didn't your parents ever teach you to listen to your _elders_?"

The stressed word made Yuna in turn try to swat the blonde away, who dodged easily, giggling, narrowly avoiding Brother still trying to shake off the child swinging out of his face.

More death threats, and a particularly long winded explanation involving legs being jammed up the rear and having their sphincters torn out like a hair-scrunchy. She marvelled at how eloquent the woman could be when swearing like a Blitzball player.

"Oh, Yuna! Is that a grey hair?" Rikku plucked at her braid, grinning like a maniac, and though the woman proceeded on a high speed chase around the bridge after the blonde, she couldn't help but feel a little exultant. How long has she been doing this? Maybe two, three years? Sure, she complained, but really…

She needn't ask for more.

"What did Baralai want?" Paine asked her huffing and puffing cohorts, still strapped to the railings. After giving up her attempts to wriggle free ten minutes ago, she blew a lock of her hair out of the way, and remained to look as ineffectual as one possibly could while wearing a ridiculously large pink bow.

Yuna swung an arm around her cousin's shoulders. "Usual stuff, you know really. Weird things showing up in the temples, same old same old."

"Atleast he's trying to fix it now, instead of just hiding it." Rikku said, taking in a deep gasp of air, trying to steady her breathing.

Brother said something too, but it was muffled by Shinra's abnormaly strong grip.

* * *

It was always him.

It always seemed to happen to him.

The few months Baralai spent as a shut in, he researched the workings of curses, trying to find something, _anything_ to try to explain how his life tumbled down into the endless abyss of turmoil he had to face.

__

It's not luck or a curse, Baralai,

Yuna had said on countless occassions, _it's you!___

We are all responsible for our own lives. It's not how bad the situation is, it's how you deal with it! Luck, fate, it's not **that**, it's how you handle it that matters! If you find yourself in a bad circumstance, it's because you've done something to put yourself there in the first place.

Perhaps she was right. And he supposed, he really only landed himself in those kind of situations because of something he's done before to get him there in the first place. But then, how was one meant to prepare for it? How does one measure how bad something is, before it even happens?

How you deal with the situation… is to act accordingly. Act according to your station.

Yes, he was the Praetor. He made a promise to Spira to unearth all the secrets of the temples, and that he would very much do.

The dead weight of the morning seemed to be lifted somewhat off his shoulders after he called Nooj and explained what was happening in the Chamber of the Fayth. Well, not so much lifted as supported a little by Nooj's careful hands. The Youth Leagure were on it, travelling to each nearby temple to investigate, and he sighed inwardly with relief.

Another unit would be dispatched to Saint Bevelle, as Nooj said, to ease his worry. _Just incase._

__

You never know.

Relief, just like he felt back in the Crimson Squad when Nooj was around. Sweet relief, that they could make it, and if they didn't it was an honourable death at least. He sometimes envied the Youth League for that spark Nooj seemed to have left in them. And, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought, that was how he met Elma. _That spark._

__

She's so cute.

"Sir!" One monk managed to catch him mid-way through the Cloister on his way to the new Scriptorium. "Apologies sir, but I'm afraid your assistance is needed in the Chamber."

"What is it now?"

The monk looked down, as if to search the floor for an explaination. "I… I don't quite know, sir. The symbols…"

Baralai exhaled noisily. "Very well. Follow me."

If the teachings of Yevon taught anything, the _real_ teachings, it was that things tended to happen for a reason. Sometimes, he felt as though he was being punished for something he may have done, some cause he had forgotten, or perhaps erased.

Yuna said it's not the time, it's how you handle it. So he tried his best to be optimistic before dealing with things. If life was a stage, an arena that way, he would fight instead of blaming the world for _making_ him fight. He just needed to think more, and feel less, less incredulity and hate, more logic and compassion, more understanding.

"It's just here, sir."

Perhaps that's what he has been doing wrong all these years…

"… When did this start happening?" He asked, eyes intent.

"A few minutes ago, sir," One monk kneeling on the floor stood, dropping his scribbled notes and diagrams. "We suspected the growth has been happening slowly, but it seemed to be speeding up within the past few minutes."

"I see…"

Was this normal? The symbols started off small, a minor annoyance at best, but it seemed that each time he returned to check on them, they grew.

A warning…

What did it all mean? Especially now, that the marks bubbled and swam within themselves, and _beld_ outwards, running into each other, like ink, or Machina oil in the rain, a forewarning made of simple symbolism, and yet he still couldn't figure it out. No one could.

He shivered, despite himself, too used to the damp and the cold of the Bevellian underground.

The symbols slowly but surely began to meet each other, loosing their shape, rolling liquid down into the gaping hole left by the fayth, sparkling light down into the never-ending puncture in the world.

Please, he thought silently, please let the Youth Leage get here soon.

There was no shame in leaning on your friends. He never really realised the gravity of a secret before he told someone, and the sheer crushing weight felt supported, making the burden easier to carry.

But your friends can't do all the work, and you must… act accordingly…

Hopefully, he was just worrying over nothing.

Yevon, why was it _always_ him?

**Author's notes:** Review if you wish. Thanks for taking the time to read! Intro of the crossover in the next chapter!


	2. Birthday Interupted

**Author's Notes: **Gah this was a little late wasn't it? Mainly just foreshadowing yet again, a little bit of romance, some action, all that jazz.

Can you figure out the pairing yet?

Thanks for the reviews thus far, clash of the crossover in the next chapter.

**Birthday Interrupted**

"Happy Yuna-day!"

"Gippal put me _down_!"

Mid-afternoon and her birthday had gone from playing the maid, to receiving a ribcage-crushing hug from the flirtatious Machine Faction leader. Air was quick to escape her lungs, and now her body was protesting sharply at the lack of oxygen, the matter inevitably made worse when the blonde decided to twirl her in circles until the world became a brightly coloured blur.

Dropped, suddenly, but a greased arm held her upright as her legs took on the consistency of jelly and wobbled until the planet fixed itself back into place.

He pointed towards his work-force of amused looking Al Bhed, and loudly announced, "As leader of all you greased up, filthy steaming pile of-"

Ducking, when a wrench was flung violently at his perfectly sculpted head-

"-Wonderful bastards! I hereby decree this day, Yuna-day!"

Cue awkward pause, Paine slapped her forehead.

"…Fro?" One piped up from the back. _Why_?

Gippal sighed. "Palyica ed'c ran pendrtyo oui camvecr bnelg!" _Because it's her birthday you selfish prick!_

Winces abound between Yuna, Rikku and Paine, each increased tenfold in feelings of awkwardness at the guffaws and hearty slap-like greetings of the grinning Al Bhed surrounding them. The last thing any of them wanted was to get beaten, and Yuna vaguely comprehended it that it may be down to a serious case of masochism on Gippal's part.

"So, in light of your Yuna-day," he said, brandishing the wrench (making Yuna wonder where exactly he got it, perhaps the hammer-space in his overlarge trousers), "I've decided to upgrade the Fahrenheit."

"Celsius." Paine corrected.

"Whatever." He waved the wrench for emphasis, "_And_ I'm gonna do it for half price."

Rikku rolled her eyes and snatched the wrench off him, waving it under his nose. "You said you were gonna upgrade the _Celsius_ ages ago. And why can't you do it for free?"

"Like you said you would the first time." Paine quipped. Yuna continued to wobble, her head spinning.

Gippal's one eye blinked and widened before crinkling when he grinned. He cupped his ear sarcastically. "What's that? Oh, thank you, Gippal you sexy beast. Yes, we would love for you to upgrade the Fahrenheit at half the standard rate."

"It's the CELS-"

"Gippal you handsome super-man!" He continued, making his way towards the bright red airship, waving the wrench around (after snatching it back from Rikku mid-rant), "How can we every thank you for upgrading our pile of scrap-metal garbage found under glacial ruins? Oh you _do_ spoil…"

The blonde continued on his bluster of self-complimenting even after he entered the ship, making Shinra dart out as though spending any time around the Machine Faction leader could cause serious damage to his mental health. It wasn't long before the furious shrieking of Brother could be heard echoing around the interior of the airship, and the almost audible roll of Buddy's eyes.

Rikku clapped a hand on Yuna's shoulders, grinning. "So, happy Yuna-"

"DON'T say it!"

"I dunno," Paine put a hand to her chin, in a manner she may have picked up from Baralai, "I think it might catch on."

"Like a real holiday, like the Calm-Festival!"

"Like a latent cold more like!" Yuna complained.

"Well we cold sit here arguing about the plausibility or…"

"We could go annoy Nooj at Mushroom Rock?" Suggested the mini-shirt adorning teen.

Yuna and Paine exchanged a glance, then nodded in silent mischievousness, and headed off with Rikku towards the towering limestone structure. Besides, the Meyvn owed her a happy _Yuna-day _anyway, and it had been too long since she had seen the man after Vegnagun.

* * *

There was a nasty bite, chilling the air surrounding that froze the hair on Basch's upper arms. Judge attire divested for this particular assignment, he almost longed for the thick leather-encased armour of his Magister's hide; despite the heavy exoskeleton it was decidedly protective against Ivalice's harsher elements. But he would suffer the chills of the Paramina Rift if only to ease Lord Larsa's worries.

It appeared some time ago, perhaps a consequence of the use of such powerful magick encased within the Shards, or the death of Grand Kiltias Anastasis. Just _there_; beneath the altar of petrified conglomerate, strange glyphs began to bleed through the walls like ink through thin vellum, a haunting blue, the hue a reflection of ice across the Paramina sky.

At least… they _were_ bleeding out towards each other. Now however, the symbols were no longer the curling designs they once were, not blobs or speckles of liquid like splatters of fine blue elixir, evidence of a wound on the world. Now, there was just a glowing wall of electrical colour, shuddering, smoke and water all the same. Thick like paste, but consistent of air, movement liquidity. It was bewildering to watch.

There is tightness in his jaw when he looks at it once more, one that the captain of the Dalmascan Knights surely perceives.

"Do you fear, good Judge?" Vossler asks, through lips whitened by scar-tissue.

The fall of The Shiva had not been kind to him; it marred the captain heavily, robbed him of his left hand and destroyed his body with serrated scars and burns that dulled and greyed over time, more noticeable against the deep tan of his skin. The scars trailed down his face, past the collar of his leathers, into the armour protecting what should have been a dead, if not fragile frame.

But the sheer stubbornness or so Basch believes, is what truly kept Vossler Azelas alive. A year later, and he returns to Queen Ashelia's court, web-throated, a ghost of the once fearsome captain of his former self. While the Queen did not take kindly to his return after his subsequent betrayal, she couldn't help but feel swayed by the fact that he managed to keep her alive and hidden for the two years of her father's death, and gave in to what he only believed what was best for Dalmasca, even at the cost of his own courtesies. And there he stood, once again to see what he had been so longing to achieve for four years; Queen Ashelia at the helm of his country, his court, and it seems she saw it that way too.

She spoke to Lord Larsa about it, over tea one afternoon; he casually suggested the use of experimental grafting to replace Vossler's left hand. A gift, one could say, for keeping the _Princess_ safe. After his suspended stay in the Healer's wards regarding his many various injuries despite the year he lived with them, the State of Archadia decided to tinker with their use of modern machinery once more, and built a new hand onto the puckering stump remaining.

Surprisingly enough, it worked, despite needing a Lightstone change every two weeks. The only complaint the good captain seemed to have was against the Archadians themselves. Foolish, Basch reflected; he had no time nor grudges to hold against the Empire any longer, not now that Larsa was in command. But Vossler still held grievances.

"Not at all." A dry retort, his voice constricted when a harsh current of icy air blasted against them once more.

For today, he was not Judge Magister Gabranth. Today, he was simply another soldier for Ivalice, under a dual command of Emperor Larsa and Queen Ashelia. Their small group was sent by order of Rabanastre to investgate the portal.

Portal… Never had Basch heard of such a thing. There were oddities in their world; frankly he was used to such things, spells, fauna the size of airships, mist and way-stones. But a portal? A portal to where?

Draklor Laboratories have studied it for near weeks on end, and the sudden change is what alerted them to assign guards. The examinations continued, and they believed it lead to another place in Ivalice, but they just couldn't quite tell which. What piqued their interest the most was possibly the symbols, but they spread before any further studies could be carried out.

Larsa and Ashe agreed to help each other with this particular wonder, and assigned Basch and Vossler, both with military training and experience, two Magi, one equipped with the art of magical language, one particularly skilled Bangaa archer, one scientist and three swordsmen to step through the "portal" and see where it leads.

What was initially supposed to be a routine inspection, partly it made Basch feel precarious. His bow felt contricted against his back, his longsword and escutcheon almost… heavy in his hands. The armour that spent near a year-and-a-half on his back, now the reprieve of it seemed to make the world weigh down on him in contrary. Larsa and Ashe seemed fit to rid him of it, for a time, but now he felt somewhat worse without it.

Something was off, something Basch didn't like, and his past experience with these feelings often lead them to be true.

"Heed caution," he commanded, his grip tightening on the handle of his shield.

Vossler hitched up his sword, Nightmare, sliding it back into the holster between his shoulder blades, the gears in his hand grinding and clicking eerily. "Weapons down. Only unsheath if you find yourself threatened. Everyone ready?"

The men nodded, Basch at the forefront, that strange blue swirling back at him, _burning_ almost. Where did it lead, anyway? And why did the researchers inform him that mist was not present, despite the fact that it was obviously magical…

"Magi, ready?" Vossler double-checked, and the men grunted in approval.

And though Basch exceeded caution, he was not simply going to turn back now, despite his current feelings on the matter. He felt worse before Dalmasca's fall, worse before the destruction of Landis, so surely, _surely_ it would not be as traumatic.

Whatever it was, he would endure. Just as he had done before.

"We make leave then," he inclined for them to follow, "onward."

* * *

Okay, so perhaps consider for the _briefest_ second that their excursion to Mushroom Rock was thwarted by the tiniest of fiend problems. Tobli's petrified squeals came crashing down on them at the junction between Djose, Mushroom Rock and The Moonflow, and almost out of habit Yuna had her guns loaded, Rikku was already twirling her thin blades between her ring fingers and Paine was halfway up the path, her heels clicking off the rough stone and grass-patches.

And perhaps consider that the problem had been routine, almost to a point where any idiot with half a brain and a sword could have easily taken down the fiends, consisting of two Wasps and a Buel. _Yevon_.

Despite Tobli's never-ending gratitude and the goonish murmurs of his Hypello workforce, Yuna couldn't help but inwardly sigh at rushing to his aid so quickly. Sure, he needed the help, but… she didn't really know why she came to the rescue anyway when two Youth League members were already at hand, doing their rounds through Guadosalam and down the Moonflow.

Rikku and Paine, all too used to her avid heroism, never hesitated.

Now consider that, in light of Gippal's incredible managerial skills in controlling The Machine Faction, there were utterly _no_ Hovers or bikes patrolling the Moonflow Path today.

Which left her alone.

With Rikku and Paine.

And on her 20th birthday, no less, when Rikku herself jeered her for being old, now the conversation down the summery, flower filled walkway undoubtedly turned to one thing and one thing only. They tended to avoid such topics on the airship to save their ears from Brother's horrified shrieking, but today however…

"We should _so_ go out tonight and get you a boy-toy, Yuna."

The current High Summoner winced as her cousin skipped someway in front, and then faced her with one of _those _grins. "I mean, it's your birthday and all, so I'm sure there'll be plenty of willing prey."

One way to tread on thin ice with Yuna was to discuss her lovelife with her out in the open. Sure, it had been three years, three years of disappointment and anger and sadness, of failed dates and weird set-ups and lewd situations brought upon by her hyper cousin and (often reluctant) gothy friend.

The people who so claimed to be attracted to her, really, just went for her title. Shivering in anticipation at being in the mere presence of the woman who saved Spira, not once, but twice from sheer destruction. The famous singer, the beautiful High Summoner who would never decline the opportunity to lend a helping hand. People trembled at the thought of meeting her with excitement, and yet…

And yet, she never found someone she could really talk to. They seemed more interested in themselves really, talking more and more about their own lives (as if trying to impress her), and yet never once asking about hers. It was ignorance, she presumed as she feigned interest, that they think they know everything about her simply because of her fame.

Was it so much to ask, for someone to ask her how _her_ day went, for once?

Just once she would have liked to have someone… _nice_.

She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers and sighed deeply, "Please, Rikku. No more dates, okay?" This was the last time she was going to stand for this type of thing. Especially when the last "date" went so horribly, horribly wrong…

"So he was a little old, I thought you wanted someone more mature." Rikku shrugged.

Yuna bristled, "He was in his _sixties_! The sight of his neck-skin wobbling ruined dinner, and besides," she continued, walked further down towards the junction to Djose, "I wanted someone mature, not geriatric!"

Over Paine's snorting she could just about catch Rikku's wince, and Yuna walked ahead of them, avoiding the conversation with quick strides. It was rare for her to get so irritated so quickly, all things considered. But over the past year, she had become increasingly short tempered and louder, more belligerent. She hid it well, and felt terrible afterwards, but sometimes she just had to shout to get her point across.

"C'mon Yunie, we can go to that club you like in Luca tonight. With all the glowing paint and those weird pink shots, remember?" The blonde suggested.

Yuna stiffened. Really, Rikku and Paine only did these things because they worried, not to annoy her, obviously. Was it selfish to think like that?

She hated accepting help, but when it was pushed on her by her two best friends, she hated _refusing_ it. All they have ever done was care about her.

Luca was her favourite clubbing scene, and with a few strings pulled possibly from Gippal and Wakka, she could get a lot of people to come and celebrate with her. "Promise…?" She mumbled, allowing a little smile at the thought.

The tension eased, and Rikku was bouncing again, her scarf waving about. "You bet!"

Rikku was not a heavy girl, far from it, but it still brought a grunt from Yuna's lips when she bounded into the High Summoner's shoulders with a tight squeeze, manic grin, all movement and happiness and Yuna remembered how much she loved her cousin and her ability to make her smile. Paine would just look on, enjoying the spectacle.

"Come on," Paine said, walking ahead of her embracing comrades, "it'll be dark soon if we don't hurry."

The sky turned from the usual bright blue, to a yellowing-orange as the day wore on when they reached the end of the Moonflow path, on to Mushroom Rock.

The water from the Moonflow fed into the sea around the Mushroom Rock road, but due to the limestone chemicals, it turned the water to a murky grey, and unfortunately prevented the growth of Moonlillies. Many people used to see this as an omen, before the studies carried out on the stone was taken into effect. The elders used to say it was because of lord Mi-Hen's battle with Sin, that his raging spirit refused to rest, and hated the beautiful waters, the greenery that defied the true face of Spira, an ugly, bubbling, twisted representation of Spira's sins.

Now however, it served as a useful training ground for the Youth League, almost to honour Lord Mi-Hen, whose struggle against Sin served as an excellent example to follow.

It was early evening when they finally ascended up the face of the towering Cliffside. The Youth League were a friendly bunch, waving enthusiastically to them as they made their way up to the entrance of their main headquaters. Some followed for a friendly chat, others wishing good health, and those small few who actually knew it was Yuna's birthday hollered congradulations at her. It wasn't long before the entire camp knew.

"It's happy _Yuna-day_ to you, Nooj!" Using her crazy (almost Ninja-like) skills, Rikku stomped her slightly muddy shoes whilst jumping onto the messy desk housing an irritable, if slightly amused looking Meyvn, a finger in his face, the onlookers cringing when her ridiculously short skirt bared all for the world to see.

"Do you have to stand all over my paperwork?" He asked quietly, nudging the girl's left leg with a metal hand. She obediently followed his command with a manical grin, and Yuna could only hope she didn't smuggle more party hats into the headquarters. Nooj was in a good mood for the moment, which could only change so fast.

"Well I suppose I do owe you a happy "Yuna-day" after all, Yuna." There was mirth, behind those thin lenses, despite the distinct lack of a smile. They each fell into the stiff wooden chairs around the desk. "I hope you're going to Luca tonight, I need an excuse to get out more."

"Inviting yourself along, Nooj?" Yuna feighted scandalisation, a mocking hand to her chest.

"I'd be insulted if you didn't invite me, actually." His metal leg creaked as he streached it out, leaning back on the chair. "It's been too long for all of us, and what better way to take a break than drinking until I can't feel my remaining leg anymore?"

The summoner sat forward and smiled, naturally, "I'd love to have you there."

"Good," he said, smiling for a brief second before pushing miscellaneous paperwork to one side of the desk, "and I want to thank you for talking to Baralai. He called me this morning."

Yuna breathed a small sigh of relief. So Baralai _had_ taken her advice, thank the heavens. Perhaps, she could only hope, he really was recovering. Elma would be delighted to hear.

"Did he tell you what was happening in the chamber?"

Nooj nodded, albeit a little gravely, "He did. I sent out the units earlier this morning, the one heading to Bevelle should be there in about an hour or so, but you know how Machina is. Tends to break down every few hundred miles."

Paine sat foreward. "Yuna was telling us about what was showing up. Any theories?"

"I can only speculate," he gestured with his gloved hand, the other twisting around his cane, "and at this point it could mean anything. The least I can do is offer some protection, Farplane forbid if Baralai needs it."

Nooj sat back, turning to the side in his swivel chair, the evening light from the open canvas acting as a window near him cast an eerie shadow over his deep features, and suddenly he looked much older than he should be. The shine on his glasses obscured his eyes, a dark look passed over his face. "Tromell sent word this afternoon about the activity picking up in the Farplane… could there be a connection I wonder?"

"What about the Farplane?" Rikku solicited warily.

"Well, since the destruction of Vegnagun, naturally, the sphere-fueled interior attracted some of the more powerful fiends roaming around the area, and they've begun to breed and multiply over the past year. Tromell visits the Farplane everyday, despite the instability, and grew worried about the noise they were making."

"… It's usually so peaceful in the abyss…" Paine said quietly.

"Exactly, and I'm up to my neck in sphere-calls and unit displacements and potion/weapon orders I don't even know where to start. Perhaps if there _is_ a connection between the symbols in Bevelle and the activity in the Farplane, it might be just one problem instead of thousands of others."

Yuna played with her thumbs for a few moments. She had not been informed about the Farplane, and such a topic was worrisome. Since the fall of Sin the abyss itself began to grow unstable, the fiends multiplying little by little, the Pyrefly's movements less floaty and more erratic. At first she thought it would calm down, once Spira got used to the end of the Fayth. Not the case however.

Nooj sighed, pulling on his dreadlocks in irritation. "I'm looking forward to a chance to get out tonight; I've barely left this desk in weeks, so an excuse to unwind would be nice."

Yuna was about to ask if she could personally go to the Farplane to see for herself, as the topic unnerved her, but before she could even take a breath, a Youth League member entered the room, passing a brown envelope into Nooj's outstretched hand, who continued talking.

"There is someone waiting for you in your quarters sir, who wished to discuss the contents of this parcel."

"Thanks," he dismissed the soldier, tearing open the top of the paper, "so you can see why I couldn't go there myself. I too am worried for Baralai's safety, especially after the last fiasco in the Via Purifico-"

But he stopped, after reaching into the envelope, his fingers crinkling the paper over them. The usually tanned face paled for a second, before he stood up quickly and avoided Yuna's eyes. "Sorry, but there is an urgent matter which I must address." And already he had limped his way across the room determinedly, the envelope clutched in his free hand. "Apologies for cutting this meeting short, but there is something important which I must attend to."

"Wait a second," Yuna tried to stop him, "tell me more about the Farplane, what's going on?"

"I'll explain everything later." He threw over his shoulder at them before diappearning past the canvas hang-way.

Oh no. Oh no, no, _NO_! She was NOT letting him get away that easily!

This Farplane business was new to her, and right now, with all this happening in the temples, she didn't need to be the last one to know about it. If it was connected, more than likely The Gullwings were the ones to find out more about it anyway with their deeper connections in Spira, so the more information the better.

It was her _birthday_, so the sooner this was sorted out, the better.

Lucil, former Captain of the Chocobo Knights along with Elma and Clasko, blocked the stairs to Nooj's quarters. "I'm sorry; Lady Yuna, but the Meyvn gave strict orders for absolutely no visitors." She held out her hands as the three trounced towards her.

"Who's up there?" Paine demanded.

Lucil shook her head, her fierce red hair falling over her slender right shoulder, "I don't know, I'm afraid. He simply told me not to let anyone through."

"You saw the look on Nooj's face when he opened that letter," Yuna cut her off, "don't tell me you don't find that a little off."

Lucil was as intelligent as she was beautiful, and cast her eyes to the side worriedly for a second. Her loyalty lay soley with the Youth League, and any danger on it at all brought out some of her best characteristics, so no doubt she was a little anxious with Nooj's reaction. She clenched her fists several times, obey or disobey?

"… Very well, but _only_ if you believe he truly is in some sort of danger." She uttered, stepping aside to allow them to run up the stairs to Nooj's quarters.

What was in that parcel that caused the former Crimson Squad leader to pale? Should he not be hardened to these things?

Yuna began to worriedly contemplate if something poisonous had been in the envelope, a red qactuar needle or a curse, a magical spell that aidled his brain. They were but feet from his door, before they heard a groan and a loud knock, then a smash, and she hurriedly flung the door open, her cousin and Paine at hand.

Needless to say, she was more horrified than surprised at the sight.

* * *

Baralai was studying pensively in his office, when it began.

Restless, waiting for the Youth League had brought out too much anxiousness in him, and he retreated to his office with a copy of _Advanced Gravity Spells, _in a bid to learn some more powerful magic. It was something he had been putting off, and an Ultima spell was useful in sticky situations particularly with the fiends in the Via Purifico. He was cut-off halfway through the third sigil diagram unfortunately (and with still so much more to learn), when an urgent knock from one of the High Priests rapped against his door.

"The Youth League sends word, sir. They will be here within the next hour." He said, through the door, fiddling with the handle when the Praetor nodded, pen scribbling down notes from the thick Magical volume.

When he didn't leave, Baralai finally tore his vision from the page to scrutinise him. "… Anything else?"

It was as though he knew what was going to happen.

"Eh… something is happening in the Chamber sir."

"I know that," he sighed, laying aside his pen, "what exactly is coming about now?"

The Priest let go of the handle and his gaze fell to the floor. "Perhaps you should take a look yourself."

Baralai didn't claim to be psychic, but at that moment, though he felt fear, he had a more heightened sence of things. Something bad was going to occur, and he shivered, despite himself.

He always kept his Halberd close to his heart, the thin rings folded together with the telescopic handle beneath thick embroidery and material. Ether lined the inside of his belt, if need be, though his Magical power was high above that which people gave him credit for. And just _there_; for those very rare moments, so rare infact it could only be used as a last resort, his gun hidden on his hip-bone, the weight heavy of the Machina that served for only one purpose.

Baralai hoped it wouldn't come to that, whatever he was feeling.

Still he patted the left side of his chest briefly, as if to make sure, just before he entered the Chamber again, and sighed in agitation.

What was going on? Why did it have to be like this?

The symbols finally bled into each other, and now there was just a wall. Square, like a door, but moving like a swarm of liquid electrical insects. No sound, only silence. The priests could only stare at it, ceasing their examinations and gaze bewildered into it, much like the Praetor himself.

Should he call Yuna? He really wanted to, she did after all tell him to keep her updated. Today however, was her birthday and if anything that made him even more reluctant to call her than usual. The High Summoner rarely had a moment to herself, and Baralai guiltily weighed up his options of telling and worrying her, or keeping her in the dark and worrying her even more.

_Where_ in all of Spira was the Youth League?

Just by looking into it he could swear it would… swallow him whole. If it was liquid, why was it not running down the walls? If it was gas, why was it not dispersing? If was was solid, why did it move so viscously? If it was magic, why wasn't there more aura in the air?

Last month, they filled over half the hole reaching down into the Farplane; he stepped over the loose stones to stand in front of the wall, trying to find something, anything to indicate what it might be. The other half of the hole sucked down the air around, them echoing the vibrating noises of stones bouncing downwards into the abyss. He was nose to nose with the wall.

Blankly, it merely swirled in front of him, defiant to his wishes of revealing it's secrets. He contemplated what would happen if he touched it, and though he entertained that thought he wasn't stupid enough to touch an unknown, possibly magical substance.

He wondered what it would be like to have a normal life, and not have to deal with the things he has dealt with thought out his existence. Sin, The Crimson Squad, Seymour, Shuyin, Vegnagun, and now all this. The list went on, and surely it would have to balance out sometime. Life was throwing the most bitter lemons it could muster.

Minutes passed, and with a growing mix of irritation and impatience, he started to feel angry at the wall. Foolish, he knew that, but did it have to be so stubborn?

He licked his lips for a second, and slowly reached towards it, expelling a breath just before his fingers touched the viscous substance. The rush of air rippled the wall when it passed, and just for a second (though it was almost too brief to notice), he could have sworn he saw something. He cocked his head to the side and frowned.

Who…?

Nothing, until it shuddered suddenly (like a Blizzaga just before the caster lets it free, and it shatters) and Baralai reflexively stepped back.

Then there was just noise, the eerie grinding of massive Machina, the build up before the break of a powerful Flare, singing swarms of Pyreflies and magic flowing from the caster, to the ground. It was a sucking, gradual sound. The surrounding Priests who could not fight quickly fled the room, others already unsheathing weapons or poised their hands in sigil signs for spells, looking worried.

Baralai could only pray for safety, as someone began to push through the electrical blue wall, the noise deafening on his ears.

* * *

Yevon. Not even thee most industrial extra-strength soap could hope to wash away the images of the day.

Yuna would have never expected to see the envelope discarded by the door, a slinkly pair of lacy black and pink underwear half hidden underneath the brown paper. She never expected to see Nooj pressed firmly against the wall in a ferocious lip-lock with Leblanc - _Leblanc_ of all people! Never expected her long left leg to be hooked over his metal hip, or his free hand clapped firmly over a pert, pink-clad rump.

And she certainly never expected to half hear the Syndicate Leader growl, "Take me _now_ you _sexy_ amputee."

The two looked less than happy to be interrupted during their heated tangle, but the worse reaction came from the latter, the ones exposed to the spectacle. Rikku was to near bursting point trying not to laugh or blurt out lewd innuendos, Yuna wanted to run, hide and cover her ears, Paine turned green and clutched her stomach with latent nausea.

And now they sat back at Nooj's desk. The leader himself looking painfully embarrassed with a dark blush staining his face and neck, Rikku twitching with restraint, Yuna avoided every ones eyes and yet still trying to maintain her pride, Paine distracted by trying to keep her lunch from returning, Leblanc with a strange sort of pride and aloofness about the whole thing all together.

She should have known better than to let her hyper-active cousin sit in the same room after bearing witness to such a horrific scene, and it wasn't long before her iron restraint finally snapped and she fell off her chair and _laughed_ and _laughed_ while Nooj scowled and Leblanc smiled evily.

Before the Meyvn began to look murderous at Rikku's jokes, Yuna managed to grab her giggling cousin about the shoulders and haul her along with a retching Paine outside to safety.

Just over Rikku's laughter, was Paine's stomach-steadying gulp of air and the blood finaly returning to Yuna's body after spending so long in her face.

"Never… again." Paine demanded, stalking shakily back towards the lift.

"Did you _see_ his face?!" Rikku squealed, "I'm sure all that blushing must have hindered the blood flow from-!"

"_Rikku_!" Yuna and Paine chimed together, hushing their grinning cohort.

Yevon, even when she shut her eyes she could still see the raunchy image of the two burning along the insides of her eyelids. And she couldn't help, with a little saddened thought, that at least someone was getting some action. Even if it was… Nooj and Leblanc, oh good _Lord_.

Yet another selfish moment from her. Perhaps this night out would do her good.

Late evening was drawing near, the sky turning deeper purple into blue, the moon hidden beyond the Youth League headquarters, illuminating the great canvas structure. The shadows across Mushroom rock served as good shelter for fiends, especially those too frightened to come out and face the swords of soilders and guards training and working rounds along the winding pathways.

Said soldiers passing would call their enthusiasm for the party tonight, and Yuna made a mental note to invite Wakka and the Aurochs, and Lulu if she could tear herself away from playing the doting housewife (an idea quite ironic on Wakka's part) for a few hours. Perhaps Gippal could invite some of his workforce, Nahdala always made a good contribution to every party. She would have to ask him to give Nooj a lift, and then to Bevelle to…

To get…

… Baralai.

This almost overwhelming feeling settled deep in the pit of her stomach, so much so she had to stop for a moment just to stay the feelings.

… She forgot all about Baralai.

"Yunie, you okay?" Rikku asked, looking back at her as her cousin stopped. But before she could even begin to think about that horrible mixture of guilt and dread that burned at her gut, a shrill cry of her name echoed across the bubbling path as Elma bounded towards them.

Elma, a former Chocobo Knight along with Clasko and Lucil, joined the Youth League along with her trusted friend while the remaining Clasko found another calling. Dressed in red leather body armour and a creamy pleated skirt, her brown head-band fell askew when she finally skidded to a halt in front of the group.

"Yuna!" She cried, her face red from exertion, "I must make use of your airship. Something terrible has happened!"

"Why, what's wrong-?"

"It's Baralai!" She interrupted, her hands clenching into fists, raising them as she stamped her foot in impatience, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, "He's been attacked!"

"What?" They asked in unison.

"Something happened in the temple," her voice cracked as she hurried to speak, "the unit dispatched sent out a call for back-up just now, they said Baralai was taken to the emergency Healing ward in critical condition." She grasped Yuna's shoulders, pleading with watering black eyes. "Yuna, please! I _have_ to see him, I have to make sure he's alright! And Bevelle needs that back-up now!"

As if Yuna had to think about it. She would never dream of re-considering helping, especially when Elma sounded so desperate. They would have to return to Djose and get the Celsius.

"Get the back-up you need, and let's go!"

It had to have been the Chamber, it simply had to be. There was no other explaination, but what exactly had happened, she was almost afraid to know. Baralai was far from weak, and along with the help of the temple monks he should have at least been able to defend himself. So what could have possibly gone wrong, for Baralai to be taken into an Emergency Healer's ward, when he was so adept at white magic?

This was just turning out to be one of those days where everything goes wrong. And it was her _birthday_, dammit.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: I'm such a cow for the cliffhangers aren't I?

Cookies to those who guess the pairing. Not Nooj/Leblanc bashing BTW, I happen to love them! Baralai get's his pert little ass handed to him in chapter 3.


End file.
